Hannah Howell (11 page)

“Antonie, you aren't taking up smoking, are you?” Patricia asked.

Peeking at Patricia's shocked face, Antonie almost smiled. “No. I think not. I am just trying to roll one. It is not easy, eh?"

“Oh. Why?"

“Why not,
chica?"

Even in that brief moment of looking directly at Patricia and her beau, Antonie decided that Maria was right to fret. The young man had looked at her with an expression in his eyes that Juan would have shot him for. Considering that he was sweet-talking Patricia at the time with a possible eye toward marriage, Antonie decided that was reason enough not to trust him. There was also the very good chance that he had only the seduction of a naive girl in mind.

Within a few moments, Antonie saw that her growing suspicions were justified. Young Clem Tillis clearly thought her too involved in her attempts to roll a cigarette to notice how often his hands roamed over Patricia. It took Antonie another moment to see that Patricia was not calling for help or protesting because the girl was either too embarrassed or too frightened. The look on the girl's pale face was certainly not passion nor even reckless daring. Slowly, Antonie turned to face the couple.

“Move those hands,
Señor
Tillis."

“It's just a little cuddling, ma'am. Nothing to get all fired up over.” His last words ended on a squeak when he suddenly found himself staring down the barrel of Antonie's gun.

“Move the hands,
gringo,
or I shoot you. Simple, eh?"

“Yeah, yeah, simple.” He edged away from Patricia but then looked at the girl. “Now, Pattie, tell her it was nothing, hmm?"

Patricia opened her mouth to speak just as a shot rang out. Clem Tillis squealed and held his hands up. He lost all of his cockiness in an instant.

“Damnation! No need to shoot. I stopped touching her."

Moving with a swift grace, Antonie yanked Patricia off the swing and pushed the girl down onto the floor of the veranda. “I did not shoot at you,
gringo.
They did.” Peering over the veranda rail, Antonie indicated the large group of armed men riding straight for the ranch. “I think it is not safe in that seat now,
Señor
Tillis."

Throwing himself to the floor, Tillis made no move to draw his gun. “What the hell's going on around here?"

“Antonie? You all right?” Tomás shouted from his perch on the roof.

"Sí,
Tomás.” She neatly took down two men, briefly curbing the attackers’ advance.

The front door was flung open and for one dangerous instant, a frantic Maria was framed in the doorway. Antonie was surprised at how fast the plump woman prostrated herself when bullets shattered the door frame. From within the house came Rosa's screams of fright.

“Patricia?” Maria called.

“She is all right, Maria,” Antonie yelled in reply as she pinned down the attackers who were now seeking cover. “Get out of the way, for we will be coming through in a minute."

“But it's open between here and the door,” squeaked Tillis.

“That is all right,
Señor
Tillis. Patricia will be safe, for I will keep this scum pinned down and you will be her cover."

“Now, wait just a damned minute..."

"Señor
Tillis, you will do that and take a chance at being shot, or you may stay here and be certain that I will shoot you."

“But, Antonie, what about you?” Patricia asked in a trembling voice.

“I will be all right, Patricia. I will be right behind you. Tomás is on the roof and will cover me.” Beginning a steady and deadly cover fire, Antonie hissed, “Go now."

Antonie almost smiled when Tillis scooped up Patricia and keeping her sheltered, bolted for the door. He had clearly believed her threat, for he nearly hurled himself into the house. Considering the roughness of the rescue, Antonie was not sure Patricia would be too grateful. Very carefully, Antonie edged closer to her goal, readying herself to follow the couple into the house. She just hoped that going inside would really be safer.

“Tomás,” she yelled. “I am ready."

After one last emptying of her pistol to aid Tomás in keeping the attackers pinned down, she raced for the door. It was not only the cries of the attackers that told her a few had dared to break their cover. Several shots came too close, so close she felt them pass. One even tore through her shirtsleeve as she slammed the door shut.

Maria, a weeping Rosa, a pale Patricia, and a clearly terrified Clem Tillis hovered in the parlor. It was certainly a pathetic little army, Antonie thought wryly as she moved to the window. When she smashed a window, all three squealed and she almost laughed. She forced herself to be stern, however, for she could not afford to let them be useless. They were all she had. With them she was going to have to form an adequate defense of the house that would cover all angles of attack.

“Where are Jed and Old Pete?” she demanded even as she concentrated on keeping their enemies from getting too near the house.

“Pete is across the hall and Jed is upstairs,” replied Maria.

“Good, good. Now, get me guns and ammunition. All there is in the house. And shut that Rosa up."

It took a few minutes but Maria finally got Rosa to calm down a little. Then, with the terrified girl in tow, she left to get the weapons and ammunition Antonie had asked for. Antonie noticed that Clem Tillis was firmly settled behind a very solid chair and showing no inclination to lend a hand. She was going to enjoy changing his mind.

When Maria and Rosa had collected all the weapons in the house, Antonie was impressed. The Bancrofts had collected enough to supply a small army. Antonie just wished she had the small army to use them.

“Who can handle a gun?” she demanded as she helped herself to a substantial supply of ammunition.

“I am not very good but I can use a rifle,” Maria answered. “Patricia can shoot, but Rosa, she has never learned."

Nodding, Antonie silently indicated that they should choose their weapons, then looked at Clem. “And you,
señor?"

“Hell, this ain't my fight. I'm not risking my neck."

"Sí,
you are.” She calmly pointed her gun at him. “You shoot them or I shoot you."

“And how can you explain that to my folks?"

“You died in the battle. So tragic.” Although he looked suitably unnerved, he made no move to pick out a weapon or use his own. She coolly shot away the cigar he was just lighting up in a show of bravado that did not fool her at all. “You
will
choose a weapon."

“All right, all right. I can use a rifle better'n I can a pistol,” he said, his voice a wavering falsetto.

“Patricia, you will go to one of the bedrooms and Maria will go to another. I want all sides watched. We do not want any of these dogs to encircle us. You,
Señor
Tillis, will watch the back of the house. Rosa, if there is a blind spot, you are to watch it, eh? You cannot shoot, but you can watch and call for aid if any of these dogs appear. Carry enough ammunition to take to Jed and Old Pete. They must need some by now. And, Rosa, you are to help anyone who is hit."

Once the others were gone, Antonie returned her full attention back to the men outside. They were being cautious, exposing themselves to the deadly fire from the house as little as possible. That meant that they had accomplished little and Antonie wondered if, due to the standoff, they would soon give up. If it did not come to that, then it would be a matter of who ran out of ammunition first, if the attackers managed to make a successful run on the house or if the men with the herd came back. It worked out to be about a fifty-fifty chance of winning. As Antonie continued to try and convince the men outside that it would be far too risky to rush the house, she decided to pray for the men to come in from the range. It was the best option she could hope for, the one that would bring about the quickest resolution to the trouble.

Royal frowned as he watched Justin race toward him pushing his horse at a reckless speed. He had heard no shots and seen nothing. In fact, everything had been progressing with a gratifying smoothness. By the look of things, they could head out on the drive by the end of the next week. He did not really want to hear that something had gone wrong, but he had the sinking feeling that that was just what he was about to hear.

“Is there a reason for nearly killing that horse?” he asked with a false calm when Justin finally reached him.

“There're shots coming from the ranch, Royal,” Justin stuttered, gasping for breath.

“Shots? One? Two? How's it sound?” he demanded tersely even as he fired off three shots, the signal for trouble that would bring all his men to his side.

“It sounds like there's a damn war going on."

When his men were gathered, Royal led them at a steady ground-eating pace toward the ranch. It took nearly all of his willpower to rein in just out of sight of the house. The sound of heavy gunfire had him aching to charge right in, afraid for Antonie and the others, but he knew such a rash act could cost him men. He sent Cole ahead to see exactly what the situation was so that they could plan an approach that would gain them the advantage.

“It looks pretty cut and dried, Royal,” Cole reported when he returned. “There's about twenty men besieging the place, but our people are in the house and have them pinned down. By the looks of it, our side's winning."

“The best way to handle it?"

“Straight in and shooting, Royal. The
bandidos
are square between us and the house. We'll be coming in behind them."

Smiling grimly at this good news, Royal gave the signal to charge.

"Señorita! Señorita!"

“Stay down, Rosa,” Antonie hissed as the girl raced toward her. “Are they getting around us?"

“No, I see no one, but I did see one of
Señor
Royal's men. On the rise. The men are coming to save us."

“Tell everyone, Rosa. We do not want any of our own men shot by us. And keep your head down."

When Royal and his men charged, Antonie simply watched. There was no hope for the ruffians outside. They scattered like frightened fowl before the onslaught. Not many got away, falling victim to the hail of bullets now raining on them from two sides. Even as the shooting sputtered to a halt, the other defenders of the house gathered in the parlor.

Briefly Antonie felt piqued when Royal and his brothers entered. Royal looked to the welfare of Patricia and Maria first. However, Antonie felt soothed when she saw how his gaze sought her out immediately and never left her as he gathered assurances that everyone was unharmed, only a few nicks and bruises. She was able to stay seated by the window and wait for him to come to her.

“Are you all right, Antonie?” he asked quietly as he crouched before her.

"Sí.
Not a scratch."

He touched the place where the bullet had torn her shirtsleeve. “This was damned close."

“But not close enough, eh?” She picked up her hat and wriggled her finger in a fresh bullet hole in the crown. “Same here."

Clutching her tightly by the arms, his blood chilled by the evidence of such a close call, he rasped, “That's not funny."

“I know. I did not laugh,
querido."
She smiled faintly. “It was my favorite hat.” When
El Magnifico
scrambled to her side, she laughed softly and scratched his ears. “Such a brave one. He hid beneath the settee."

“If there had been room, Clem would have joined him there,” Patricia sneered.

“Here now, that ain't fair. I did my part."

“Only after Toni threatened to shoot you."

“There's gratitude for you. I don't have to stay here and take this.” He strode out of the room, a chiding Patricia at his heels.

“Did you really threaten to shoot him?” Royal asked as he helped Antonie to her feet and led her to the settee.

"Sí. Gracias,
Maria,” she murmured as she accepted the glass of brandy the woman served her. “It made him obedient."

“I reckon it would. Raoul's men?” he asked, looking to both Tomás and Antonie for an answer.

Tomás shrugged. “Could have been. I recognized no one. Maybe just some hired dogs."

Rising slowly from his seat, Royal said wearily, “We'll deliver the bodies and the prisoners to the sheriff. Maybe we'll be lucky and he'll come up with an answer or two."

Shortly after Royal left, Antonie began to feel weary, but she struggled to overcome it. She doubted that there would be any more trouble for a while, but did not want to ease her guard. However, as soon as all the hands were back at the ranch for the night, she readily relinquished her position. After a light supper, she had a quick hot bath and speedily sought her bed, not rousing again until Royal eased into her bed and gently pulled her into his arms.

“I am not easing your troubles,
querido,"
she said softly, annoyed at what she saw as her failure to protect Royal and his ranch from being raided.

“Nonsense. We were losing before you came."

“We are not winning now."

“Maybe not, but we're holding our own and it's costing them."

"Sí,
it is costing them. The word will be put out that we are not easy prey. What happened here today will be told. Whoever sent these men will begin to find it hard to hire others. I say hard, but not impossible."

“No, not impossible. I am not fool enough to think this will end it. The only way to stop all this is to get the one behind it, and I haven't a clue to who that is."

“The sheriff knew nothing? Found nothing?"

“Nothing. Couldn't get anything from the prisoners either. Really don't think they know. Asking around town only told us that some of them had been seen in the saloon or the whorehouse. The usual places one goes to hire such scum."

“That is where they go,” she agreed. “I would look for such men there. Men who do not know who or why, just how much, eh?"

“I can't quite figure out why they'd hit the ranch,” Royal muttered. “Why not go for the men spread out on the range?"

“Because you are
too
spread out. That would take time. Maybe you would hear a shot. Then they must face many armed men. True, you'd be out in the open, but so would they. Here, they knew there were only few, and mostly women. I am thinking they planned to kill us all, maybe burn you out. You come back to the dead and the ruin and maybe that is enough. You decide this land is worth no more dying, no more grief and you leave. It would work,
sí?"